


Godspeed

by priuchi



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Adoption, Dad Dick and Dad Bruce, Future AU, M/M, Mentions Of Jaytim, Oc son (he’s a sweet boy don’t judge him), light SM
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-05-21 12:13:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14915163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/priuchi/pseuds/priuchi
Summary: Marriage can be hard. Raising kids can be hard too. Being a superhero is definitely hard. Being married, raising kids, and being a superhero all at once? Well, its certainly not easy.But Dick Grayson wouldn't have it any other way.





	1. This is Happening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this chapter as been UPDATED as 8/15/17!

Damian is my son. We’d had a rocky start, but you’d never be able to tell that now. I think I’m more of a parent to him than Bruce- and Bruce probably wouldn’t deny that. After all, Bruce was Father. I was Dad. The thing about Damian though? Is that under all the video games, the late night snacks, the normal teenage boy stuff… is the fact that he’s not a normal teenager. No matter what I do, he’s not, and he never will be. He’s the grandson of the demon’s head. He’s trained and lethal. He was Robin. And I was Nightwing. 

Damian was nearing 17 when Bruce and I started having conversations about what was next for us. Bruce was getting older, not as spry as he used to be. There were a few close calls on missions and we finally reached two conclusions we could agree on. One, it was time for Bruce to give up Batman. Two, it was time for me to wear that cowl again. But there was one more thing we couldn’t seem to come to agreement on. Robin. 

Not Robin as in Damian. Damian was no longer the bird at the bats side, he was his own person. He had the Titans. I was considering offering him the mantle of Nightwing, now that it was open. Bruce was talking about the next Robin. A Robin all of my own. This was something I would never agree with him on. Damian was a trained assassin before he had come to live with his father- it made sense that he became Robin. Tim had begged for it, Bruce had been careful with him. Jason? A disaster. Me? I still wasn’t sure what I thought about all that. I wasn’t about to pull another child into the picture seeing as the results varied so much. 

But here’s the thing about Bruce Wayne; if he has his mind made up about something? He’s going to get his way. So it didn’t come as a surprise to me when he woke me up early one morning, telling me to get dressed so we could go meet a kid in foster care. I did what I always did when he pulled crap like that- did what he asked me to do but not before giving him a glare to let him know I wasn’t happy and I would find a way to get back at him. But I melted when we got to our meeting and that little boy looked up at me with his bright green eyes. Another thing about Bruce Wayne? He knew how to play me like a fiddle. 

His name was Richmond Sutton. He was going on seven. He was the sweetest little kid I had ever met in my entire life. We were told he was scared and shy but he took to us so incredibly fast. I held his hand while he showed me around the foster home and Bruce gave me such a smug grin because he knew. He knew he had won. 

But really? He’d only half won.

“So?” He asked when we’d gotten back into his car. 

“So what?”

“Dick. You loved him. I know you did. You want to adopt him.”

“Of course I do, Bruce. He’s amazing and sweet and I’d love to have him running around the manor and waking me up at 4am on Christmas morning, and I’d love to take him to school and help him with his homework and cry when he goes to his first school dance.”

“So what’s the problem then?”

“The problem?” I laughed sourly. “The problem, dear, is that you’re going to expect that sweet little boy to train with me and grow up to be a crime fighter. And I don’t want that! I don’t need a sidekick. I’m not doing this to another child, Bruce!” Okay, so maybe I was a little bitter. Bruce just watched me, looking thoughtful as he let me calm down and gather my mind after my sudden outburst. 

“He’s too young to start now anyway.” Bruce said calmly once I would look at him again. “It would be his choice.” 

“No. No I’m not doing it Bruce. It’s too dangerous. I worry about Damian enough- and he was _born_ to do it. If you want to adopt him to be our son, that’s fine. But no Robin. No capes. He can’t know about it. I want him to be a normal kid.”

I called Damian when we got home. It had dawned on me after Bruce and I had finished our conversation in the car that I had been too focused on my own feelings and hadn’t even thought about what Damian would think. We’d decided to adopt Richmond. But if it was going to upset Damian… I wasn’t going to do something that would hurt him. I told him the whole thing, starting with it not really being up to me to go meet this kid, then with how much I had fallen in love with Richmond, and ending with the fact that this boy wouldn’t ever be my sidekick.

“Are you kidding? That’s great!” Damian exclaimed after I had finished. 

“You think so?”

“Of course! You’re a great parent. That boy will be so lucky.”

“I just don’t want you to feel like your being replaced, Damian.” I sighed softly. “I love you so much.” 

“I know you do. Which is why I know I’m completely irreplicable.”

I laughed. Smug little bastard. That was my Damian. One of a kind, completely irreplicable. But it was settled then. Bruce and I would adopt Richmond, he wouldn’t be exposed to our family secret, and Damian was okay with it. There was finally going to be some normality to my life for the first time since… since _ever_. And I was so ready for it. I settled into bed next to my husband that night, giving a satisfied sigh as I leaned back into the pillows. Bruce closed his book, looking at me with a soft smile. I think he was ready too. It was going to be all new to him, having a son that really was going to be just that- a son. Not that Tim and Damian weren’t his sons-- they both used the Wayne name, they both saw him as their father, and they both took part in the family business (both of the family businesses, I guess). But they had both come to him out of necessity, and they were both Robins he worked with. Richmond wasn’t coming to Bruce- we had invited him in. And he was going to be just like every other kid at his school, with nothing to hide. We were ready. 

We turned a guest room down the hall into a little boy’s paradise in preparation for Richmond’s adoption. It was still pending while we prepared, but no one in their right mind would refuse Bruce Wayne anything. We weren’t worried. Two gay men or not, Gotham was nothing without Bruce, and no one wanted to be the one to piss him off. It wasn’t like Bruce would actually threaten someone if he didn't get what he wanted, but he didn’t have to. He was powerful, so people would assume things. People loved assuming things. I knew what was assumed about me. 14 years younger than my husband? I lived with him as a child? Yeah- I knew exactly how it looked. 

It didn’t make Bruce look bad, not at all. Gotham’s prince could do no wrong. He would never do wrong. But me? I was an easy target. I was a gold digger. I was the boy who couldn’t be his son so I came back to be his husband, to get his empire. To have all the power I had lost when I moved away. I was the man who turned him gay. The man who stole him away. The man who was using him. It cracked us both up. It cracked Damian up even more. After all, he’s the one who finally got us both to get over ourselves and confess.

At least everyone that mattered to me knew the truth. I wasn’t some gold digger, hellbent on worming my way back into the empire I had left behind. I was just Dick Grayson, who, back when I was an idiot teenager, had head over heels in love with my mentor who I thought would never love me back. I’d worked so hard to get over him. I moved away, I became Nightwing. I cut myself out of the role of a son. I gave up anything to do with the company. Nothing I did worked. I couldn’t make the feelings go away.

I’m so glad they hadn’t gone away. 

The morning of Richmond’s adoption finally came. I woke up feeling more ready than I ever had. I dressed and made my way downstairs, joining Bruce for breakfast. Alfred and I shared our good mornings and then my husband and I ate together in silence. Silence was never awkward between the two of us. Not anymore. It was always just comfortable silence. The manor itself holds a stillness to it. With three, sometimes four people living there it felt empty sometimes. I remember hating this as a young boy. The quiet made me feel so alone. Now it made me feel at home. When I lived in Blüdhaven, alone, I got used to silence around the apartment. But it was never really silent with all the activity of the city going on outside (mostly sirens, if i’m being honest). But the manor was truly quiet. Still. Peaceful. 

We were just finishing up when Damian came marching into the room.

“Good morning dad, father.” He said as he took a seat beside me, swiping a piece of a toast. Bruce and I both said good morning. Then paused, looked at each other, and then looked at Damian as he munched away at the toast. “What?”

“Don’t speak with your mouthful.” His father chastised. 

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with the Titans?” I inquired, shooting Bruce a look. Bruce and I disagreed on how to handle Damian. He was always scolding the boy. I was always just happy to see him actually behaving like a teenager. 

“Did you really think I would miss my parents going to pick up my new brother?” Bruce was about to tell him no. I knew that look on his face. So I spoke first. 

“That’s great, Damian.” I smiled at him, putting my napkin on the table as I stood. “Actually this is perfect. I wanted to talk to you about something anyway. Let’s go talk a walk.” Bruce shot me a warning look as I turned to leave. I smiled back at him. 

Listen, Bruce and I love each other, but no one has a perfect relationship. We love each other, but we do fight. We push buttons. And like I said, Bruce and I disagreed on how to handle Damian. We would never fight about him while he was there, and we would never tell him we fought about him behind closed doors. But it happened. I knew that telling Damian he could come would be a flight later. And I knew what I was about to tell Damian about on the walk would be probably be fight, too. I didn’t really care.

I waited until Damian and I had went around the first corner of the garden before speaking.

“You know, your father is retiring from Batman.”

“He mentioned something about that. You are taking over then, I assume?” He tried so hard to act like he didn’t care. It was adorable. 

“You assume correctly.” I watched him for a moment before adding, “Of course, it’s bittersweet for me. I’ll miss Nightwing.” Damian just nodded, looking thoughtful. I’d always felt a little bad for kids like him. Tim and Conner, Damian and Jon. They were stuck in an awkward place of being too old to stay in their current mantles, too young to take over for their mentors. Conner and Jon had it the worst I think- I mean, they had to use the same name for a long time. How was that fair? After it was clear Damian had nothing to add I went on with it. “Do you want it?” 

“Want what?” He turned his head toward me, brows drawn together in thought as he processed what I had just asked him. “Wait. Nightwing? Are you asking me if I want to be Nightwing?” I smiled at him. He thought a moment longer before quietly asking, “Does that mean the kid will be Robin?”

“No,” I replied, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him as I squatted in front of him, looking him in the eyes. “Richmond isn’t going to be Robin. Because Richmond isn’t going to know about any of this. Batman will remain a mystery to him.”

“And Father is okay with that?”

“Not exactly. But your father isn’t the only one who gets to make decisions around here. So, I know it’s always been, you’re Robin and I’m Nightwing- but how about we change it up a little.”

Damian held his head a little higher when we went to join his father at the car. Bruce watched Damian climb into the black Porsche before looking at me, face stoic. 

“What did you talk to him about?”

“I was just explaining that we weren’t going to be telling Richmond about the family secret.” I replied, using the excuse of opening my car door to not look at Bruce. I’m sure he saw though it, but he didn’t press me further. Damian took it upon himself to tell us about the recent happenings of the Titans in the car so Bruce and I couldn’t sit there and stew, and by the time we got to the foster home Bruce was in a better mood again. 

We looked like quite the modern family walking up to that door. Bruce Wayne the six foot two billionaire holding hands with me, 14 years his younger, and our son marching in front of us, skin darker than either of us and a full foot shorter than his father. Bruce rang the doorbell and squeezed my hand. It was really happening. After weeks of preparing and waiting for things to finalize it was happening. I made a silent prayer, asking whatever was out there in the cosmos to give Bruce and I the strength, the patience, and the love to actually raise a child right. The door opened.

This. Was happening.


	2. After the Sun Sets

“Can I ask you something?” Bruce said when we’d gone to our room after making sure Richmond was settled into his for the night.

“Sure.” I walked over to the closet, pulling my shirt off, not looking at Bruce. I knew what this was going to be about. Honestly, I didn’t really want to have this conversation. Not yet. It had been such a nice day, spending time together as a family. Richmond had been quiet at first, but by the end of the day he had come out of his shell a little, especially around Damian. He loved Damian. I think Bruce had been surprised by it, I wasn’t. But still, it was always so nice to him getting along so well with someone new. 

“What else did you talk to Damian about this morning?”

“Nothing.” I replied, still not looking at him. 

“Please don’t lie to me, Dick. You know I hate that.” I looked over at him, meeting his eyes and sighing softly. He let out a sigh too, moving to the bed to sit. “This isn’t an interrogation. I just want to know what could have been said that’s made you feel like you need to keep it from me.”

“Fine,” I muttered, moving to sit beside him, “we were talking about me taking over Batman.”

“What about it?” 

“I offered him Nightwing.” I gave up. I wasn’t in the mood to dance. _Let him be mad_ , I thought. Bruce blinked at me. Then he laughed, taking my hand to pull me into a hug. He put a hand on the back of my head, fingers tangling with my hair. Despite my confusion, I relaxed into it, resting head onto his shoulder. 

“You thought I wouldn’t like that? Oh god, Dick, do I really scare you that much?” He said, still sort of chuckling through his words. “You’re going to be Batman- and Damian’s out growing Robin everyday. Offering him Nightwing is a good move.” 

 

I felt such an odd mix feelings- the pride in having Bruce tell me I’d made a good choice, and the way my stomach had dropped when I realized how stupid it had been of me to think that Bruce would be mad at me. Why had I thought that? _Because Bruce has to control everything,_ I found myself thinking, _why would this be different?_ I decided to focus on the pride, smiling into Bruce’s shoulder as he stroked the back of my head. Bruce let go of my hand in favor of resting it on my thigh, slowly moving it up my leg… 

“I should have asked you first.” I found myself saying, turning my head so I was staring at the skin of Bruce’s neck. “It should have been a conversation.” 

“No,” he replied softly, hand finding its way to my crotch, “you got me back. You’re so clever, and you don’t even know it.” 

It hit me like a jet plane. 

One, that he was right. I’d gotten him back. He hadn’t had a conversation with me about going to meet Richmond, he’d just woken me up one morning and told me that’s what we were doing. I don’t think I had made a conscious decision that giving Nightwing to Damian without talking to Bruce first was the perfect payback… I hadn’t talked to Bruce first because I just really, really wanted Damian to take my old name and I knew if Bruce told me no that would be the end of it. But if he wanted to read it as payback, then hey, I wasn’t going to correct him.

Two, this man, my husband, my Bruce, was honest to god trying to turn this conversation into one of his games. And I was going to let him. Had I _wanted_ him to be mad at me? God I had, hadn’t I? 

He rubbed me through the jeans I still had on and I moved my head closer to his neck, kissing at him gently. Before I really knew what was happening he had pinned me down against the plush bed, one of his large hands holding my wrists above my head, his other hand pushing my pants down. 

“This would have been easier if you had waited for me to fully underdress before starting a conversation.” I remarked with a sneer, earning me a glare. That just made me grin more. I watched as he slipped my jeans off, then my boxers. He let out a low chuckle. 

“You’re so easy to get going, Bird. I’ve barely even begun to play and you’re rock hard.”

“That’s just what you do to me, Bruce.” I replied smoothly, meeting his eyes. “Always.” He seemed to like that. I knew he would. He kept his hand on my wrists as he shifted, turning to reach the nightstand and open the drawer.

“I make you crazy, don’t I Bird?” Asked as he turned back after fishing out the lube. I nodded as he poured some directly onto my cock, snapping the bottle shut and setting it beside me. He put his hand around me then, starting to pump slowly. I moaned softly, closing my eyes. The feel of his hand on my was always so mesmerizing- his skin in some limbo between soft and rough. “Don’t move your hands.” His order came just as he pulled his hand away from my wrists, and I did what he said, not daring to move them even a fraction of a millimeter. His pointer finger pulled down my bottom lip and I opened my mouth for him, letting that finger and two of its friends slip inside and play with my tongue as his other hand slid back and forth over my cock. 

I licked and sucked it his fingers for a moment, before they moved down further in my mouth and made me gag softly. He held them there, letting me choke on them for a moment before easing up slightly, letting me breath for a moment, and then shoving them back down deep. He started to pump harder, and harder, and his fingers became more aggressive, not giving me as much time to recover between gags. 

I started moving my hips some, in rhythm with his hand. I was just starting to see white when both of his hands suddenly left me, leaving a void around my cock and in my mouth. I gasped, eyes shooting open, some tears caused by gagging slipped down the sides of my face. Bruce laughed.

“You look so beautiful like this.” He said softly as he wiped my own saliva off along my chest. 

“Bruce,” I said, nearly choking on his name, “please.”

“Please what, Bird? I can’t read your mind.” _Bullshit,_ I thought. Or, at least I thought it had been a thought. But the look on his face, the way his brows came together and he frowned while his eyes still glinted playfully, suggested I had not just said that to myself. “What was that?” 

“I said... I said bullshit. That’s bullshit. You’re in my head, you know what I’m thinking, always.” 

“That’s not a very nice way to talk to me, especially when you want something… and what was it you wanted again?” 

“Just fuck me!” I snapped, then whimpered after that earned me a stern look, “Please.” 

Here’s the thing. After years, and I mean _years,_ of hiding my feelings for Bruce, I was shameless now. I let him tease me and use me and I loved every second of it. It never got old. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve shared passionate, non-sm related nights together. But it was rare. What can I say? We’re freaks. He took me like I was nothing and everything at the same time. 

He carried me to the bathroom afterwards, setting me on the counter and kissing me deeply before he went to start the shower up. The marble was cool under my bare skin as I watched him, still coming down from the high. His scarred skin, his muscular arms and legs… I slipped off the counter and went over to him, resting my hand on his back and rubbing as he fiddled with the temperature controls. 

“Still okay?” He asked softly, glancing at me with care in his eyes. 

“Yeah. I’m okay. I’m great.” I said, smiling back. He always asked at least twice post session. He didn’t, when we’d first started doing this, but he’d learned it was a necessary part of that kind of relationship. 

We showered together, mostly just letting the warm water relax our muscles and calm our bodies. Bruce ran his fingers over the bruises he had left on my sides and I relaxed into him, letting water flow over my hair and face. Once we were able to pull ourselves from the comfortable warmth of the shower we dried off and finally got ready for bed. I put on a plain set of light blue pajamas while Bruce slipped into his black silk pajamas, BW embroidered into the pocket on his chest. He slipped into bed beside me, snaking an arm around me. 

“Why do you think pajama shirts have pockets?” I asked, staring at the bedside lamp while the bulb still had a faint glow to it. “What’s the point?”

“Go to sleep, Dick.” Bruce chuckled, eyes closed. I listened to his breathing as he drifted off.I listened to the faint hum of the manor’s cooling system, and the soft sounds of leaves against the side of the house. I thought about the first night I spent in the manor. I’d never felt more alone, more small and insignificant. I remembered Bruce checking on me, and sitting with me when he realized I’d been up crying for most of the night. 

I decided to check on Richmond. I knew he hadn’t gone through what I had, but I also knew that this still might be stressful for him. Carefully, soundlessly, I slipped away from Bruce and left our room, making it about 3 steps before my eyes focused enough in the dark to see his small figure, hand on the wall as he made his way down the hall. He froze when he saw me starting there, and I could practically feel the panic rise in him. 

“I’m sorry- I know I shouldn’t be out of bed…” he started saying, frantic to explain himself.

“Woah, bud, relax. I’m not mad.” I quickly said, moving toward him. “You okay? Something wrong?” I held my hand out to him and he took it, searching my face for a moment before he relaxed. 

“I had a bad dream.” He replied sheepishly. “And I couldn’t fall back to sleep.” My mind went rushing back, again, to Bruce sitting on my bed and rubbing my back while I cried. And I remembered thinking how nice it was, how safe I felt… but I also remembered how that wasn’t really what I needed him to do. I had needed a parent, and Bruce had never been that.

“Tell you what. Let’s go have some tea or something. And if you want to talk about your dream, we can. But we don’t have to.”

We walked down to the kitchen together, his hand in mine. I made us herbal tea and took it over to the breakfast nook, sliding Richmond’s cup to him as we sat down. We drank tea mostly in silence for a while before he looked up at me.

“Dick? It’s okay that I call you that, right? It feels weird to call you dad, at least for now.”

“Of course it’s alright.” I smiled at him. “That’s what Damian usually calls me.” 

“Right. He’s adopted too, right?”

“Not exactly. He’s Bruce’s son. I’m his step-dad.”

“Oh.” He replied, his face falling some. I watched him for a moment before standing, leaving my cup where it was. He looked up at me, confused, but he took my hand when I offered it to him. 

“I want to show you something.” I explained, leading him out of the kitchen and to the great room. I turned the lights on and turned him so he was facing the large photo on the wall. Bruce and I were at the center of the group, me in my white tux and him in a black one. Our left hands where intertwined together, and we were holding them up some so the gold bands around our fingers were visible. Damian stood in front of us, wearing a thawb, one of my hands on his shoulder. Tim stood beside Bruce, smiling brightly, Jason beside him with an arm around Tim’s hip. They both had on matching red ties, naturally. Next to me was Alfred and Cass, both looking humble yet proud. “You got adopted into sort of a large family, Richmond.” I laughed, pointing out Cass. “That’s your sister, Cassandra. And Tim,” I pointed him out too, “they’re both adopted.” 

“Who’s that?” He asked as he pointed to Jason.

“Jason. Tim’s boyfriend.” I said quickly, not wanting to get into the nuances of that ordeal with a seven year old. Richmond smiled some as his eyes moved across each face in the photo. “You’ll get to meet them all soon.” I assured him. “And you know what else?” He looked up at me, eyes curious. 

“What?”

“I know how big and weird this place can feel when you’re new to it, cause I was new to it once too. So don’t ever feel bad about asking me for anything… even if it’s just to sit and talk for a while.” 

We sat in the great room and talked for a while more. He asked about my childhood, so I told him about growing up at the circus. I told him about Mr Haley, and the animals, and of course my parents. I told him about John and Mary Grayson, and how incredible they were. I told him about the man who had taken me under his wing and had kept me safe. I left out some key details of course, like how the tragedy of my parents death had occurred, and how if Bruce hadn’t taken me in back then it would have been the Court of Owls. And, of course, how I had ended up as Robin after all of that. He asked a lot of questions about what being an acrobat was like. 

He finally started to doze off while I was telling him about they time the circus was in Russia. I carried him back to his room and by the time I had him tucked back in he was fast asleep. I quietly left him, going back downstairs to clean up after myself. I could practically hear Bruce telling me to let Alfred handle it, and Alfred chiming in that I really shouldn’t be in _his_ kitchen in the first place- but I couldn’t stand just leaving dishes for him to deal with first thing in the morning. I realized I really wasn’t that tired, still. I was restless. So I did what any normal father would do when he couldn’t sleep… 

I went down to the cave, suiting up in black and blue before slipping out into the late summer night. I flew across rooftops, letting my instincts guide me through the night. I found myself a top one of Bruce’s buildings, looking out over the lights of Gotham. 

“You know it’s not your night, right?” a voice came from behind me. 

“I know.” I replied, not taking my eyes away from the glimmer of the city. “You know, when all you can see are the lights, Gotham actually doesn’t look so dirty.” Tim, or rather, Red Robin, came to stand next to me. 

“Yeah, too bad we know better.” He said, glancing at me. “What are you doing up here?”

 

“Just saying goodbye to an old friend, I guess.” 

Tim didn’t ask for clarification. I guess he didn’t need it. We stood there in silence for a while, just looking out over the city. Bruce’s city. Batman’s city.

My city.


End file.
